Know no better
by wolfypuppypiles
Summary: Written for a prompt sent to me on Tumblr: I was wondering if you could write a fic where peter gets hurt fighting the vulture on the ferry? And tony is scolding him for going after him and everything, and then peter passes out or something?


The boat was bobbing in the water unsteadily, as Peter watched the last of the passengers being rescued. God, what a mess.

The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, after taking an hour to get back to land, and it was making him feel drained and achy all over. But the guilt hurt far worse than any physical pain he could feel. Okay, maybe not all the physical pain, cause crap his arm really, really hurt.

He could hear the Iron Man suit approach, before he saw it, and didn't turn to look as Tony started talking.

"Previously on Peter screws the pooch, I tell you to stay away from this and instead, you hack your way into a multimillion dollar suit, so you could sneak around behind my back and do the one thing I told you not to do."

He sounded mad, and Peters own voice came out small and shaken. "Is everyone okay?"

"No thanks to you."

Peter frowned at that. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He swung his legs over wall and hopped down, ignoring the way it made his head spin.

"No thanks to me? Those weapons were out there and I tried to tell you about it but you wouldn't listen! None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me! If you even cared you would actually be here."

Peter felt betrayed. Tony had given him the suit, brought him in on his insane fight with half the avengers, gotten him beaten up and terrified, and then dropped him home and ignored him for months. And now he wanted to lecture him about trying to stop bad guys that he had ignored?

The Iron Man suit opened, revealing Tony's hard expression as he stepped out. Peter took a stumbling step backwards, wincing a little at the way his chest throbbed painfully.

"I did listen, kid. Who do you think called the FBI, huh? Do you know I was the only one who believed in you? Everyone else said I was crazy for recruiting a fourteen-year-old kid."

There it was again. He couldn't even remember how old he was; just more proof he didn't really care. And it hurt. Or maybe that was his chest.

"I'm fifteen."

Tony's face hardened again, voice raising enough to give Peter a headache, and make him dizzier than before. The teenager blinked, trying to clear his vision.

"No, this is where you zip it, all right? The adult is talking. What if someone had died tonight? Different story, right? Cause that's on you. And if you'd died? I feel like that's on me."

His tone had changed slightly, softening just a little, as if he actually gave a crap.

"I don't need that on my conscience."

Peter lowered his gaze, swallowing thickly as he mumbled out a few words. God, why was it so hard to breathe? And his arm felt like it was made of lead, his fingers wouldn't even twitch.

"I'm sorry, Mr Stark."

Tony kept talking, but Peter couldn't really hear him anymore. His eyes wouldn't focus on anything, and he felt as if he were about to pass out. Something was wrong.

Tony watched the kid blinking heavily, swaying a little, and snapped his fingers in front of Peter's face, trying to gain back his attention.

"Peter, are you listening to me?"

The teenager flinched a little at the snapping, but it was slow and clumsy, and he mumbled the same words as before, small and confused.

"S-sorry Mr St-stark, I'm sorry. Sorry Mr Stark, I'm-"

Tony frowned, concerned, and lifted a hand to the kid's shoulder. "Peter?"

His touch made the kid flinch, eyes scrunching shut and legs giving out as he let out a cry of pain. Tony caught him around the waist as his legs crumpled, holding him up against his chest as Peter groaned.

"Hey, kid, you, all right?"

He didn't answer, and his arm didn't move, hanging limply from his side as if the limb were nothing but dead weight. Peter's other hand was fisted in Tony's shirt and he looked down at the kid as those bright eyes blinked open, glassy and tired.

"Peter, answer me." He was getting worried. Something wasn't right. But Peter didn't say anything, just groaned in pain and sank into Tony's arms, no longer able to hold himself up. The older man carefully lowered the kid to the ground, arms around his back, as Peter's heavy head lay cradled in Tony's hand. His eyes were blinking slow as he panted, but it was clear he wasn't really seeing anything and he didn't respond to Tony's voice anymore.

Tony's heart thumped in his chest. God, why had he yelled at him? Why hadn't he gotten the kid checked out first, or just asked Friday to make sure he was okay? He'd tried to hold an entire ship together, and singlehandedly battled the vulture and his crew, why would he think he'd be fine?

He tried again, breathing growing quicker as Peter's grew more laboured, slow shallow breaths coming strained as Peter's chest heaved with the effort.

"Peter, come on kid. Talk to me, stay awake." His eyes were getting heavier, and Tony knew he wouldn't be awake for much longer. He called out to his suit, voice harsh and panicked.

"Friday, scan him and send the results to the base. Call Bruce."

Her cheerful voice came quickly. "Scan complete. Initiating call."

Tony didn't want to let him go, he didn't want to leave him for a second, in case something happened, but he needed to get him help. He slowly lowered the teenager to the ground, not expecting any response, but that trembling hand tugged against his shirt and Peter blinked up at him, mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak.

"Shh, it's okay, Peter. I'm just going to get my suit on so I can get you some help. Stay with me, I'll be back in just a second."

He felt the sharp stab of guilt as he pulled Peter's fingers from his shirt, wincing at the whimper it elicited, and lowered the kid to the ground. He sprinted to his suit, allowing the metal to envelop him, and quickly running back over.

Friday had called Bruce, as he requested, and he hastily told him the situation.

"Tony, what's-"

"I need you in the med bay, I'm taking Peter there now, there's something wrong with him."

Peter was gasping on the ground where Tony had left him, and let out a weak noise of pain as Tony lifted him. The kid was so small, gangly limbs hanging from Tony's arms, and his eyes were closing.

Bruce's voice was quick and focussed. "What happened?"

Tony held Peter close, and flew off, towards the Avengers base.

"He seemed okay, I didn't think anything was wrong but then he just collapsed and I think he's having trouble breathing. Friday sent you the information from his suit. I'll be there soon."

He ended the call, unable to explain. Peter had taken on a group of super scary guys by himself, he'd done his best to save a ship full of people, and Tony had yelled at him instead of making sure he was okay.

He felt awful, and he just hoped Peter would recover.

Bruce was waiting for them when they arrived at the base, and began checking the kid over as soon as Tony lay him on the nearby bed.

Peter was no longer conscious or responding at all, eyes closed and pale face lax, as his limbs lay sprawled on the mattress. This is what Tony had been afraid of, this was why he'd been so angry. Peter was a kid, and if he got hurt, if he died…

Bruce tapped on screen's and read stats, muttering things to himself as he did.

"Grade three…...Rotator cuff, that'll take a while…need an MRI for that one…That's far too low, where is he bleeding from?"

Tony didn't know what to do, or what most of what he said meant, and simply paced next to the bed as the doctor worked. Until Bruce started pressing on Peter's chest and stomach, frowning deeply, before peeling back the kids suit. His eyes went wide behind his glasses and he stepped away from the bed, hitting a call button on the wall.

"I need a med team in here now!"

Tony's blood ran cold, at Bruce's panic. He was supposed to fix the kid, what was he panicking for?

"What is it? Is he going to be okay?"

The Doctor started grabbing thing's as nurses ran in, pulling Peter's suit off and injecting things into his arm.

"He's bleeding internally-haemorrhaging, actually, and he's going into shock. We need to get the bleeding stopped now, or he's going to die."

Tony felt frozen all over, unable to move as he watched them work on the teenager, shining lights in his eyes and calling out to each other across his vulnerable form.

"I'm going to need an MRI on this before we do anything else."

"His airway is clear but he's not getting enough oxygen in, there's too much blood in his chest."

"Blood pressure's still dropping."

They started wheeling him away, and Tony instinctively went to follow until one of the nurses put a hand on his chest.

"You have to stay here, Mr Stark, I'm sorry."

Bruce turned to him, while pushing Peter's bed into the hallway, his face awash with concern and apology. "We'll take care of him, Tony."

Peter lay there, on that bed, pale and barely breathing, and for the first time, Tony could see the mottled colours stained across his skin, over his chest and stomach. He was dying, he had been dying, and Tony had yelled at him.

He couldn't tear his gaze away from those closed eyes. They'd looked so hurt, on that rooftop, betrayed and scared. What had he done?

And then he was gone, taken away by the small med team, and Tony could no nothing but wait for them to come back.

…

It took hours, and each minute was another pang of guilt and worry, like a shard of glass, into Tony's heart.

May kept calling, asking where her nephew was and for once, Tony didn't have an answer. He couldn't stand to hear her shaking voice as she asked where Peter was.

"Because I heard about that ferry incident, and Peter hasn't come home, what if he was on it! What if something happened to him? I'm losing my mind here, please, tell me you know where he is?"

Tony had choked on his words, unable to speak as the sound of Peter's whimpers invaded his mind. Happy was there, and took the phone from him, voice quiet and forcefully reassuring.

"Hey, Mrs Parker. This is Happy Hogan, I've been keeping an eye on Peter during his internship. I can assure you he's fine, he's working on a project and he's all wrapped up in it, you know how excited he gets with that sort of stuff. His phone died so he hasn't been able to call, but he's just fine. He's actually doing so well, that we'd like to borrow him for a little while longer, maybe till tonight or tomorrow, if that's okay? He really is a great kid, Mrs Parker."

Tony would have smiled at how thick Happy was laying on the praise, but he would do anything for the excuse to be real, for Peter to just be working and not going through emergency surgery that his aunt didn't know about.

He could hear her relieved sigh from the other end of the phone, and the way her words turned into little sobs. "Oh, thank god. I was so worried, I couldn't help but think the worst and – Thank you. I want to talk to him."

Happy paused for just a moment before that calm tone was back. "He's really busy right now, but I'll have him call you as soon as I can. Don't you worry, he's perfectly safe here."

Tony walked out. He couldn't hear it any longer without feeling sick, because the reality was, they didn't know if Peter would be able to call. They didn't know if he would make it.

Tony coped with things best when he understood everything about them, and so, of course he had done his research about what Bruce had said. So, he knew how bad it was. Peter had been haemorrhaging inside, and if they didn't find out where the bleeding was coming from, and get it fixed, he could die.

And there was no way it wasn't this fault. He had given Peter the suit in the first place, pulled him into the dangerous world of super heroes, and then left him with no training, and expected him to know what he was doing. Of course, he would make mistakes, and of course he wouldn't stay away from the weapons just because he'd said so. He should have told him about notifying the FBI, he should have been checking up on him more, he should have been there for him.

Instead, he'd given a superhero suit to a fifteen-year-old and left him to it. How stupid was he?

Tony sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead, trying to dispel the stress headache that had developed.

"I know you're blaming yourself but, this is on me too. I was supposed to keep an eye on him, I should have known he'd mess with the suit, I've seen his test scores I knew he could do it."

Tony opened his eyes to see Happy there, with a cup of water and some painkillers. Tony took them gratefully and shook his head.

"I yelled at him. He was bleeding inside, and I yelled at him."

Happy sighed, because as much as he hated it, he knew there was no way to stop Tony from feeling guilty about something; he'd always blame himself.

"You didn't know."

Tony threw back the pills. "I should have."

Bruce appeared in the doorway, hair ruffled, and wearing scrubs instead of his usual casual attire.

"He's out of surgery, and the nurses are cleaning him up and settling him into his room now."

Tony almost didn't want to ask, but he had to be okay if he was being put back into a room, right?

Happy got the words out before he'd untangled his tongue from his thoughts.

"How did it go? Is he okay?"

The doctor nodded, but looked sombre. "He lost a lot of blood and it was affecting his lungs, essentially shutting them down, and sending him into shock. We found the bleed and stopped it, but it was close, and his blood pressure is still lower than I'd like. We'll keep him on oxygen and give him a blood transfusion until his stats come back up. He also had a torn rotator cuff and a dislocated wrist, do you know how that could have happened?"

Tony thought back to the boat, and what Peter had been doing when he'd arrived. The stupid kid had been trying to hold the huge mass of metal together by himself, gripping webs and strung between the two pieces as if he could singlehandedly hold the weight of it all.

He nodded and squeezed the cup in his hands till his fingers were white. "He'll be all right though? He'll recover?"

Bruce nodded, eyebrows lifting just a little. "Yeah, his speed healing had already started repairing the shoulder injury before I could even get a scan of it. I've set his wrist, and it's looking fine. He's going to be okay."

Tony closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. He was okay, Peter was going to be fine.

…

It took a while for Peter to wake, but when he did, the first thing he felt was something tickling his nose.

It was really annoying. It was kind of warm too, which was nice, but he didn't know what it was and he frowned as he reached up a strangely heavy hand, to pull it away.

Something caught his hand before he could make it there, and a familiar voice came, soft and sad.

"Don't touch that, Pete, you still need it."

Tony.

The teenager opened his eyes, blinking at the bright lights, as he tried to find the owner of the voice. There he was, sitting beside the bed, looking tired as he gently pulled Peter's hand away from the nasal cannula under his nose.

Peter frowned, unsure of where he was. He was lying in a bed, machines and wires attached to him and trailing off the side of the bed, and braces on his shoulder and wrist. His voice came out scratchy and weak.

"Where am I?"

"You're at the Avengers base, I brought you here when you passed out, do you remember that?"

Peter nodded a little. The memories were fuzzy. "I think so. You were mad at me. Why did I pass out?"

"You were hurt, fighting the vulture and his guys. And Peter…I'm so sorry that I yelled at you, and that I didn't make sure you were okay. But next time just…you need to listen to me when I tell you to do something, you need to trust me. I know you think you have everything handled, but you're still learning about a lot of this stuff, and mistakes mean people get hurt. That's my fault too, I should have been training you to use your suit properly."

Peter had never heard Tony talk like that before, he thought he hadn't cared, but he looked so shaken up, his words came back to him. _If you'd died, I feel like that's on me. And I don't need that on my conscience._

Tony sniffed and blinked away the moisture in his eyes, trying to regain his composure. "Well, anyway, you're okay now-or you will be. I had Bruce fix you up, and there's really no one better for someone like you."

A knock on the door interrupted Peter's confused frown and melted it into wide eyes and an open mouth as Dr Banner walked in.

"Friday told me he was awake. How are you feeling, Peter? I don't think we've met properly yet but I'm-"

"Dr Banner, I know. I read your paper on the research you did for gamma radiation. I did a project about it for class. You're amazing."

Tony smiled a little at Peter's awed expression and Bruce's confused one. The doctor pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Oh, thank you."

Tony smirked and poked his friend in the side, making him frown and shove his hand away. "He's also The Hulk but of course you only care about the science, you nerd."

Peter frowned, offended. "You're a nerd too! And I do care, I think that's cool but I didn't want to be rude or-."

Bruce smiled and tapped a few monitors by the bed. "It's okay, Peter, he's just teasing because he doesn't want you to know how worried he was about you. But he was, and we are all very glad you're feeling better."

Peter looked at Tony's embarrassed eye roll, and smiled a little bit.

"So, science legend, and Avenger, Dr Banner, saved my life. Ned's gonna loose it when I tell him." And then he realised, eyes going wide and heart rate jumping as he tried to sit up in the bed.

"Aunt May! Oh my god, I've been gone for ages, she's going to be freaking out!"

Both Bruce and Tony reached out to push the teenager back into the bed, as Tony reassured him.

"Don't move you just came out of surgery! It's fine, Happy called her and told her you were working with me on a project for the internship. She was worried, but we told her you were just busy and would call her later. You can call her now, but stick to the excuse, and I'm sorry but Bruce isn't going to release you from here till tomorrow at least, so you'll need to convince her to let you stay."

Peter nodded emphatically and hastily took the phone as soon as Tony offered it, both men stepping out to give him privacy.

Tony couldn't help but turn back at the door, watching as Peter clutched the phone close to his ear, looking relieved when he heard his Aunts voice.

"Hey…I know, I'm sorry I didn't call but I was busy with a…. I know you worry, I'm sorry, I should have told you…yeah I love you too Aunt May."

Tony smiled as the kid continued to talk, and he couldn't help but be grateful that he'd come into his life. Because, as stressful as it was, and as hard it was to know what to do and how to be there for him, Peter was a good kid, and just seeing that smile made it all worth it.


End file.
